


lucky ones

by mollykaths



Series: once more, with feeling [1]
Category: Rogue One: A Star Wars Story (2016), Star Wars - All Media Types
Genre: An Embarrassed Cassian is a V. Good Cassian, Cassian is a good lil sub, F/M, Femdom, Gentle Sex, Pegging, Praise Kink, Romance, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-25
Updated: 2017-08-25
Packaged: 2018-12-19 11:59:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,623
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11897304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mollykaths/pseuds/mollykaths
Summary: He’s a delicacy, feasted upon and savored but not without reciprocation.





	lucky ones

**Author's Note:**

> Friends, the lack of Cassian + pegging fics greatly disturbs me.

Cassian wants to beg but if he does, it won’t make any difference. Jyn has him lying flat on his belly, working him open with slender fingers. When it’s her turn, Jyn is usually thorough, preparing him with quick and efficient thrusts. Tonight is different; its about getting lost in the torturous and languid pleasure at Jyn's preferred pace.

 

At the second finger curling into him, Cassian gasps her name and Jyn laughs, “ _Easy_ ,” while rubbing circles into his hip. Every time Jyn pushes into him, she tears away all too soon, purposefully avoiding to reach the spot inside him that’ll make him tremble. She always meets Cassian halfway, brushing locks of tousled hair from his sweat-slicked forehead or pressing doting kisses into his open palm, as if to remind him that she _can_ be cruel but that’s not all she can be.

 

He’d let Jyn do this to him for hours if that’s what she needed but Cassian appreciates the sentimentality behind her gestures.

 

“ _Jyn_ ,” Cassian grunts.

 

 When Cassian grinds his cock against the soft blanket beneath him, Jyn’s fingers stop moving.

 

“I said no touching yourself.”

 

 _It’s not the same,_ Cassian wants to protest: _he’s not using his hands._ Regardless, he obeys, relaxing his muscles, save for an occasional twitch or jerk when Jyn decides she’ll tease him with another jab to his prostate.

 

“You’ve been so good,” Jyn whispers, and he hears her, slowly, as if he’s underwater and her words don’t register right away. He drags himself through a mighty current to finally reach her. “Are you ready?”

 

Letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, Cassian ducks his head, face pressed into the mattress. There’s a tiny spot of a drool he’s left behind on the sheets, from the long amount of time Jyn took to render him so boneless. Silicone presses against him, dipping in curtly then pausing.

 

“Cassian,” Jyn says, tone leaving no room for argument. “I asked you a question.”

 

When Cassian opens his mouth to speak, it’s a mantra of _yes_ , and _please_ , and words that aren’t prayers but harbor the same thready and pleading chants of a devoted hymn. The sweet litany shifts its tune once Jyn enters him fully, melting into a string of curses. It’s been a while and although the toy’s girth isn’t so intimidating, Cassian lets his lips part from the intrusion. He bucks down, greedily taking as much as he can.

 

The noise Cassian makes when Jyn bottoms out is low and guttural one, drawn from deep within in him. He’s a delicacy, feasted upon and savored but not without reciprocation. There’s Jyn’s needs, too, and all she’s asked for in return is trust—trust that he can let Jyn watch him come undone. So Cassian writhes with it, moans for it, doesn’t hold back the feelings that rattle his core.

 

 “So _sensitive_ ,” Jyn remarks, peppering his shoulders with kisses.

 

 “I’ve never made you wait so long,” Cassian shoots back, catching himself on his own lie.

 

“Oh _please_ ,” she jeers, folding her own smaller frame over Cassian’s, scooping him up in her arms. “On your hands and knees.”

 

Cassian props himself up, positioned so Jyn can wrap herself around him, breasts taut against his back. Yearning to touch her, Cassian pictures tracing the slope of Jyn’s breasts with his mouth, the curve of her lips. An angry twitch in his dick jostles him out of that thought, forcing himself to fixate on the pleasure engulfing him whole. Once Jyn finds an angle that leaves him keening, she takes note, committing it to memory and thrusting again and _again_.

 

“On your back,” Jyn orders, slipping out.

 

Cassian flips over, blinking errant teardrops from his eyes. There’s nothing he can hide. From this angle, Jyn can see everything that Cassian _wants_ her to see—his cock, hard and leaking, untouched, the harsh and angry purple-red love bites strewn along his torso.

 

Hooking one leg over her shoulder, Jyn bores into him, settling into a different rhythm. When Cassian hisses, tosses his head back, bares his throat, screws his eyes shut, Jyn hums thoughtfully and drags one long finger down the column of his neck. She’s going to draw this out as long as she wants, Cassian thinks, and he’s not used to being acknowledged like this, not accustomed to being splayed out, devoured, _tormented_ , muscles lurching at the simplest touches after being left vulnerable for so long.

 

He can’t remember the last time he’d done this in a particular fashion devoid of one mechanical step after the other, intent on getting off but not much else. It’d been a long time since he looked someone in the eyes during sex but he looks into Jyn’s because they’re beautiful and _mesmerizing_ , never maintaining the same color and always shifting ever so slightly depending on the light. It's always in her eyes; the way they ignite and threaten to shine through. Not expecting the sudden contact, Cassian yelps when Jyn places a hand on his stomach, bringing him back down to reality. Every breath he takes seems to come with an undercurrent of thrill behind it.

 

“Look at you, you’re a mess,” Jyn says, “You want to come so badly. Don’t you?”

 

“Yes,” Cassian groans, not caring at all when his voice breaks, and then, “ _please_.”

 

“Why have you earned it?” Jyn asks, hand skirting along his belly,up his torso, back to tracing a line down his throat, seeming fascinated by the bob in his Adam’s apple every time Cassian makes a strangled noise like he’s crying.

 

She’s slowed the rocking of her hips.

 

“Please don’t stop,” Cassian begs. In a desperate attempt, Cassian gently taps her with his heel, hoping she’ll take the hint. His fists strangle the bed sheets, twisting them up in frustration.

 

“Tell me,” Jyn replies, tone all honeyed and syrupy, not quite matching the malicious glint in her hungered leer.

 

“I’m good,” Cassian urges, trying his best to keep his words even. “Please let me finish. _I’ve been so good_.”

 

Jyn nods.

 

“You’re beautiful, aren’t you?”

 

Cassian barks out an embarrassed, nervous laugh at that, burning all over, shyly ducking his head to the side. It's not that he hasn't been called that before; he's never been asked to admit it aloud. People have called him handsome and beautiful but never while he was exposed, naked, all while holding a direct and intimate gaze. Looks were always another tool to be utilized. Cassian still thinks he's a touch too skinny and unkempt to warrant that descriptor. 

 

“Jyn,” Cassian mumbles, sheepishly. “Come on.”

 

Sensing the need for encouragement, Jyn leans in, grasps his face between her palms and kisses him. It’s a deep, wet and unhurried kiss that floods Cassian with such lightheadedness, he doesn’t register his other leg being lifted and swung over Jyn’s shoulder. 

 

“I’m beautiful,” Cassian repeats, forlorn and dazed becauseas much as he respects Jyn’s orders, more than anything he just wants to come. Fevered and sweating, Cassian’s eyes roll back when Jyn pistons her hips.

 

“Good boy.”

 

Under her gaze, under those dark eyes that kindle and pool with color, Cassian allows himself to believe it.

 

“Keep talking, please?” He asks, a hopeful, half-choked gasp of a sound.

 

“Of course.”

 

Jyn closes a hand firmly around his cock, with the kind of confidence and brevity that had first inspired him submit to her. _Now,_ she’s impatient _,_ Cassian realizes, noticing how Jyn doesn’t give him a chance to catch his breath or adjust to the stretch of the girth inside him, just fucking him— steady and persistent and almost too much to comprehend. It’s all so much— her focus, her prideful grin. Jyn’s firebrand intensity is the birth of a star, burning so bright, and Cassian thinks he won’t be able to handle it but he does anyway.

 

“Oh, I think I _love_  you like this,” Jyn coos, mouthing at his calf. “So needy, Cassian, it looks so lovely on you. You’re so pretty. I can do whatever I want to you, can’t I?”

 

He nods because there's no way Cassian can form a coherent sentence that won't come out sounding like a howling, wounded animal. Jyn keeps talking him through it, keeps up her strokes, letting him ride out his orgasm and its a _powerful_ one, the full-bodied kind that starts at the tips of his toes and travels to the ample scarlet dotting his cheek bones.

 

"There you are," Jyn praises, watching Cassian's face contort and twist as if he's in some kind of pain.

 

Cassian shouts a series of lewd phrases in his native language. He lurches violently into the frenzy, chasing his bliss, spilling all over himself. Moments pass and Cassian collapses, weak, limbs heavy with lead. Jyn follows him, never disconnected, rubbing her nose into the crook of Cassian's neck. Jyn Erso, a glaring, cosmic force, sucks Cassian into the mass that seems to encompass her. Where he goes, she follows, though now, she's crawling back down his body, observing the mess he's made on his belly. Darting her tongue out, with a wicked look, Jyn swipes the aftermath into her mouth.

 

"Haven't you had enough?" Cassian growls, pretending to swat at her, hand coming down delicately to cup the crown of her head. 

 

"Never," Jyn replies, beaming. 

 

Cassian doesn't like the gap of space left between them so he tugs Jyn closer, bringing her to his side. They're always drawn together like that: pulled by the same gravity that whirred cautiously at first, spurned by longing looks and knees bumping together in close quarters, eventually building and careening into something bigger than they've ever known.

 

Cassian is certain he has a word for it.


End file.
